Soren's Legacy, page 8
“I swear. I wasn’t going to leave you.” She wasn’t going to. Except she kind of had... But it wasn’t like she’d planned on actually leaving him, on breaking things off.
But maybe he thought she was lying again. Because that certainly had never happened in their relationship before...
She set the passport on the bed and stood, taking his face in her hands. “I wasn’t going to leave you.”
He searched her eyes. “Okay.” His voice didn’t hold much more conviction than it had before.
She stole a peck on the lips, and he gave her a half-smile. So she kissed him again and again, hoping to lighten the mood.
“Alright. I get it.” He wore a more convincing smile this time. “Do you want me to put that back up there?”
“Um, don’t worry about it. I’m kinda starving already.” She held him by the waist. “Would you mind fixing a snack for us?”
He stole one more glance at the passport. “Sure.”
Once he left the room, Leah stared at the passport, her heart pounding. The way he’d looked at it made her worried he’d take it so she couldn’t leave.
Picking it up, she ran her thumb over the gold embossing—a blossom surrounded by an ivy leaf resting on a handprint. An old impulse came to visit—one she’d long since tackled and overcome. Stealing, and then hiding the plunder in her bedroom.
It was ridiculous, really. It wasn’t stealing. This passport was hers. But the need for secrecy, for hiding, for keeping herself safe, for relying on herself, came so naturally in the moment.
As more chopping and stirring echoed from the kitchen, Leah scoured the room for a good hiding spot. She ended up tucking it away in Camry’s underwear drawer, assuming Marcus wouldn’t have the guts to search through his sister-in-law’s private things.
She then closed the closet door, and since it had taken her a while to decide on a hiding spot, she busied herself with making the bed.
No sooner had she replaced the pillows than Marcus came back into the room, stirring a large bowl. He glanced at the closed closet, no doubt wondering why it had taken her so long to join him.
She smiled. “I guess I’ve gotten too used to a tidy bed at the palace.”
“Yeah.” He nodded for her to join him. “Come with.”
The rest of the day was spent peacefully. There was a slight bit of anxiety and tension between them, but they were just settling into new circumstances. It was reasonable to assume it would take some adjusting.
She was surprised when they headed to bed that he didn’t want to do more than cuddle, but she wasn’t terribly in the mood, either. It had been a weird day, to say the least.
She didn’t sleep the best, her mind running through all the problems with no solutions in sight. But she did eventually nod off.
Only to be awoken bright and early by a knock on the front door. She stilled, making sure it was actually a knock and not something from her dreams.
Another knock.
“Marcus.” She shook him awake. “Someone’s at the door.”
He blinked. “What?”
“Someone’s at the door.”
Rubbing his face, he groaned. “Yeah. Let me get dressed. I’m not opening doors in boxers anymore.”
He stood, grabbing a pair of pants.
“Marcus?” a male voice called from a distance.
Leah froze. “Is that your dad?”
Chapter 9
MARCUS’S FACE WENT PALE AS he tugged on his pants. “Yeah, sounds like him.”
Why couldn’t his family leave them alone to sort things out? Give them a little privacy?
“How did he even know to find us here?”
It was probably pretty obvious. If they weren’t staying at the palace or his family’s estate, then the cottage would be the most likely answer.
Marcus pulled out a shirt, an apologetic look on his face. “I ... left my parents a note when I went to grab my clothes. Just in case they were worried...”
She let out a frustrated sigh, and he frowned.
“Marcus?” Guillen called again.
Marcus ran from the bedroom, and the front door squeaked open. “Dad... Hey...”
“Are you still coming to work with me?”
Leah glanced at the clock in the corner of the bedroom, blowing out a breath. They’d agreed he would go back to work as usual, and his three-day weekend was up, so they shouldn’t have been surprised.
“Yeah, of course. Let me brush my teeth,” Marcus said.
After a few footsteps padded down the hallway, water splashed from the direction of the bathroom, and Leah worried he might not even say goodbye. But he reappeared in the bedroom for a moment, giving her a kiss. “I’ll be back right after work, alright?”
She sat up in bed. “Yeah. Have a good day.”
Half expecting Guillen to mention that he knew Leah was hiding away in the bedroom, Leah was surprised when the front door clicked closed without a single mention of her. Though ... just because they hadn’t talked about her while they were within hearing range didn’t mean they wouldn’t be discussing Leah on their trip to and from work.
She groaned, sliding down in bed, throwing the covers over her head, and falling back asleep.
***
It was quiet when she woke, but that extra sleep was exceptionally refreshing. Leah threw on some of Camry’s pajamas. After a trip to the bathroom, she settled on cooking a decent breakfast. The pancakes she made on the griddle were fine, but her mouth watered at the thought of bacon. Oh, how she missed bacon after more than two years without it!
She blankly stabbed at the last pancake on her plate, dragging it through the dregs of crushed raspberries. Bacon—she and her mom had cooked up bacon for a nice last meal together before she’d betrayed her mom, before she’d run away with Marcus.
Before she’d tried to kill Kaylah, and had gotten her mom caught after nearly two decades in hiding.
Leah couldn’t hold back tears. It was probably just hormones. Ivy pregnancies and births were very similar to that of humans. Never had Leah been more jealous of Seeders than when she found out Seeder girls didn’t even have to endure periods. And here she was—knocked up, nauseous, and moody.
But it wasn’t really fair to blame it all on hormones. One of Leah’s ‘talents’ was shoving down her trauma, just to let it build and bubble over. But that wouldn’t happen this time.
Leah was fine. She’d come to terms with the truth about her parents and the atrocities they’d taken part in during the old war. She’d ... ignored the truth bomb her mom had dropped on her a few months ago about Leah’s conception.
A hollowness threatened to take hold, but Leah wouldn’t allow that.
Standing from the little breakfast nook, she refilled her water glass. She’d said she would tend to the garden, but didn’t have it in her right now. Instead, she turned to the main room and perused the books on the shelf. They ought to keep her mind off everything.
The books were about seventy/thirty fiction to nonfiction. Tobias didn’t seem so stuffy that he’d enjoy reading nonfiction on his visits to his home realm, so these had probably been collected by or gifted to Camry—informational tidbits to help the human fit in.
Leah related to Camry so much on that, having grown up thinking she was human. Then again, Leah had spent the last two years with the highest caliber of tutors and educators.
Nonfiction sounded boring, not the escape she wanted. But, she reasoned, if she took some time to read it, that would supplement her current education. She wasn’t dropping out. She was ... doing independent study.
Leah pulled a book off the shelf; the spine was dandelion yellow. Seeders: Past, Present, & Future. It had likely been gifted by someone from Rachel’s side of the family.
She cozied up on the sofa, pulling a light afghan over her lap. Then she got lost in words and pictures for hours. She took a few bathroom breaks, and a late lunch, but for the most part simply soaked up all the culture and history there.
A knock from behind startled her as she turned a page. She was of half a mind to ignore it and pretend she wasn’t home, but if someone was dropping by a rarely used cottage, they probably already knew Leah was there.
Setting her book and blanket down, Leah approached the door. She regretted going to answer it once the face of her visitor came into view. Leah wilted. Guillen coming to collect Marcus for work was one thing, but why would Rachel drop by?
It was too late to duck and hide away, as Rachel had seen her too. Leah put on a pleasant smile and opened the door. “Hi.”
Rachel donned a bright smile of her own, holding a huge basket of produce. “Hi, Leah.” Her gaze rested on the clothes Leah wore.
Great. Not only was she sinking Marcus’s reputation and future, and had become a school dropout, but Leah was braless, wearing someone else’s pajamas in someone else’s home. She was a leech. Rachel had to be imagining she’d spent half the day kicking her feet up and eating bonbons.
“I was studying... About Seeders, actually.” Leah jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. “And Camry said I could borrow her clothes before, and Tobias offered to let us stay here.” Not really us, per se, but Marcus...
“Looks comfy, and I’m sure she wouldn’t mind,” Rachel said. “Mind if I come in and help you put away the food? It’s from our garden. We really should do a better job of tending to the one here for surprise visits.”
Yes, I mind. Leah wished for peace and quiet, and a judgment-free sanctuary. But Rachel was the last person she could ever say no to. “Sure, be my guest.”
Rachel came inside, basket in hand, and headed straight for the kitchen. She started unloading fruits and vegetables, a pair of mangos here, a bunch of carrots there.
Leah stood and watched. “I can do that. Marcus can bring the basket back later tonight...”
Waving a dismissive hand, Rachel kept unpacking. “Nonsense. I don’t mind.”
Maybe Rachel was bored. She didn’t work full-time anymore, and hadn’t for a while. Most of her work was charity work, and her schedule was sporadic. Though, perhaps this was an olive branch? Or it was a way of being nosy and making Leah feel guilty.
Once the basket was emptied, Rachel picked up Leah’s dirty breakfast and lunch plates, putting them in the sink, and then proceeded to mortify Leah by lifting her hand to the water pump.
“Please don’t,” Leah practically begged. “I know how to do my own dishes. I’d rather you not.”
“I don’t mind. I just want to help.”
“Please. I’m not a spoiled palace brat.”
Rachel chuckled. “I’m guessing the only dishes you’ve helped with in this realm were at our place, because the palace staff would be utterly insulted if you tried to do your own dishes.”
Leah frowned, and Rachel matched with a frown of her own. “I didn’t mean it as an insult. I’ve spent a good amount of time in that palace. I’m just saying I know how it works there.”
She left the dishes alone, facing Leah. “Can we sit and chat for a little while?”
That certainly didn’t bode well for the ‘get her out so I can enjoy peace and quiet’ strategy, but Leah again couldn’t say no. “Sure.”
They moved to the sofa, and Rachel smiled when she spotted the book Leah had been reading. Leah tucked her knees up under her chin, holding her legs.
Rachel loosed a breath. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine. Maternal sickness, but it could be worse.”
Rachel nodded. “Is that what’s keeping you from your studies today?”
Leah averted her gaze. “I needed to take a day off.”
“Understandable.” Rachel plucked a speck of lint from her shirt. “Catrina’s worried about you.”
Leah met her gaze, her hairs standing on end. “You guys have ... talked to her?”
“She sent a note to make sure you were okay.”
That had to be a fat lie. Catrina had sent a note to ensure Leah wasn’t out there giving away palace secrets, or instigating a rebellion of discontented citizens, pitchforks in hand and headed straight for the secret passageways.
“Do you love my son?” Rachel asked softly.
That was unfair, and a low blow. Now Leah suddenly didn’t love Marcus, just because she wasn’t ready to marry him? Every relationship Leah had been in before him was short and shallow, and mostly physical. Marcus was everything to her. He was the day to her night. “Of course I do.”
Rachel chewed on her lip. “Then why don’t you want to marry him?”
The vise tightened, and Leah clenched her jaw. She tried to speak calmly. “Because I’m not ready right now.”
Looking into her lap, fidgeting with her hands, Rachel remained silent for a little while. “I know better than anyone how complicated it can be to date and marry into the Ivy royal family. It’s very stressful. And ... you knew what was expected of you when the two of you started dating again.”
Leah’s stomach knotted. Maybe she should have waited to tell everyone she was pregnant until she started to show—then she would have a forty-three-step plan sorted out about how she could smooth everything over without inconveniencing everyone.
“I’m sorry I’m not what you want for your son,” Leah said. Flashbacks from years ago came to her. I’m sorry I’ll never be who you want me to be. Her mom had then reassured her that she’d always love Leah, no matter what. Why was it easier for a convicted murderer to love Leah than all these upright citizens and war heroes? And then another voice reminded her of one of her darkest days. You came into my home. You broke my son’s heart. You jeopardized my husband’s respectability.
“Don’t say that,” Rachel insisted. “I love you like a daughter. I wish you were ready to be one.”
Sometimes it was hard to know which voices to listen to. The scathing ones always felt more genuine, because the kind ones were more likely to make her look like a fool. It was particularly hard to know which to believe when the voices originated from the same source.
“And I just want my grandchild to be welcomed into this world with a supportive family,” Rachel added.
“So, what does that mean for them if we don’t push this under the rug and have a shotgun wedding?”
Rachel shrugged. “We’ll still love them, and you. It would just be less complicated if you and Marcus took the next step sooner than later.”
If this was Rachel’s sole intention for her visit—to wear Leah down—then this conversation was over. “I understood the expectations when Marcus and I got back together. But he understood that I came with complications. We’re adults now. Let us be.”
Rachel’s expression conveyed that she’d gotten the message. “I only wanted to help.” She stood. “You know where to find us if you need anything.”
She grabbed the empty basket from the kitchen and headed for the door. “Have a good rest of your day.” Her voice was still kind, but the tension was thick.
Leah remained seated. “You too.”
The door closed behind Rachel, and Leah rested her forehead on her knees. “I hate this,” she muttered.
After a few minutes of gathering her thoughts, Leah got up and dressed, then set to work tidying and dusting every inch of the cottage. If they were going to get surprise visitors multiple times a day, she might as well make it look like she wasn’t a useless blob and complete disappointment.
Luckily, no other visitors dropped by. Leah was just getting dinner started when Marcus returned. She gave him a genuine smile, wrapping her arms around his neck and weaving her fingers through his hair.
“Mmm.” His smile was bright as he leaned in, kissing her. “I love this.” He slid his arms around her waist. “Sharing our mornings and nights together. Not having to wait until the weekends.” He snuck another kiss. “If I’d known how good this would feel, I’d have suggested we move in together at least a year ago.”
She rolled her eyes, despite agreeing with him. “Yeah, because that would have been allowed by the committee of public scrutiny and familial obligations.”
He wrinkled his nose.
“Help me with dinner?” she asked.
“Sure.” He washed his hands, and they worked side by side.
“So... How was work?” she cautiously asked.
He trimmed a floret of broccoli from the stem. “Good. The usual.”
“And conversation with your dad?”
He hesitated, trimming off another floret. “Good. The usual.”
She passed him a skeptical glance out of the corner of her eye.
Marcus shrugged. “It was fine. I told him we were going to stay here a while and figure things out.”
Leah continued plucking grapes from the stems. “How long is ‘a while’? We have less than a week until you go off to start your internship up north...” There wasn’t a rifting cave all that close to where he would be working, and his employer would be paying room and board. They’d planned for him to continue visiting her on the weekends when she was still living at the palace.
“We’ll see. A day at a time, right?”
She nodded. “Your mom dropped by today.”
“That tracks. I was curious why we have so much more fresh food. How did that go?”
“Oh, ya know. About as expected.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She stepped behind him, using the water pump to rinse the grapes. “Trying to help. And trying to guilt us into rushing things.”
“I’m sure she wasn’t trying to guilt you into anything.”
Why? Why did this have to happen? His family had been so supportive before she’d gotten pregnant. And now, she just wanted him to pick her. Not mediate. Not justify their actions.
Leah remained silent, not wanting a fight or to sour the mood.
“Have you thought more about what you’re going to do with your time?” he asked. “About your studies?”
“Yep. Independent studies. I spent a good portion of today reading.”
“I mean real studies.”
She cocked her head, defensive. “You can be well educated without a degree or formal education, without some stupid stamp of approval.” She tried to keep her tone even. “What’s so special about a teacher lecturing as opposed to reading what one wrote in a book?”
